


"Three Months in Between"

by The_Fiercest_Vulpine



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8502484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fiercest_Vulpine/pseuds/The_Fiercest_Vulpine
Summary: This has only one line of dialogue, it's mostly set-up here but it fills a time gap and is descriptive.Tsar is depicted as i portray him in my art.I'm FoxDragonLover on dA.Enjoy!





	

Three months had passed.  
Tsar and Pitch were deep into their relationship, and Pitch was finally adjusted to touch, comfort, and being cared for.  
It still felt incredible and freeing each time Tsar held him, but the sense of fear or uncertainty had withered away.  
Tsar had seen Pitch's lair at long last -- in person, anyway.  
Unlike he expected, the Boogeyman's home was not just a pure place of misery.  
It was peaceful, quiet, and filled with mysterious, source-less light that cast beautiful silhouettes over the stone walls and strange artifacts.  
It might not have been too colorful, but it was mysterious and alluring, drawing out one's curiosity.  
Everything in plain sight appeared to tell a story, and the easy ways in which one could get lost were just thrilling.  
It was evident that Pitch tended to take things that weren't his, but other things truly looked like they belonged there.  
There were statues of animals that looked and, even felt almost as if they harbored souls or spirits within them.  
They felt alive inside, seemed to stare back in a manner almost unnerving.  
There were so many rooms, too, but no doors to enter them.  
One could only navigate to a few areas on their own, and they had to walk through a darkness so thick it was almost tangible.  
If Tsar wanted to go somewhere, Pitch had to lead him, as only the master of the shadows himself could truly understand this domain of his.  
It was impressive, even beautiful.  
Some rooms or places had pools of water -- beautiful pools, and some bore gentle fish spirits.  
There was a room for instruments, treasure, glass things, soft things, random things.  
There was even a room specifically designed to accompany the sound of, and serve as protection for, a single instrument~.  
From time to time some of Pitch's now-tame nightmares could be seen and heard galloping through the terrace, swooping through the air and neighing and playing.  
It wasn't perfect, and certainly not a warm place to live, but Tsar wasn't expecting to enter any place bright.  
No; cold and dark was and would always remain, a true sentiment of the scarier things.  
But Pitch was comfortable here, and Tsar loved seeing him enjoy his home after three decades of being tormented within it.  
Pitch was quite a showman sometimes.  
He was like a performer without a show, equipped with dance, song and a knowledge of, well...everything.  
By God he was adorable, the way he took pride in the things he'd collected over the millennia.  
Centuries of beautiful objects, treasures, and strange trinkets ripe with memories and feelings.  
Some things felt sad, others felt happy; it was all just purely fascinating.  
Tsar would laugh and smile, just completely adoring his partner and how happy he was to get to show off his home.  
Eyes golden and wide and full of excitement, much like how a child would show off their room to a friend, only to Pitch it meant so much more.  
To have someone to share something with was...unusual, to say the least, but it touched him somewhere deep inside -- somewhere good, somewhere safe.  
And as Tsar showed genuine interest in everything he saw and touched, Pitch grew only that much happier.  
Maybe the world had lost interest in him, but the man from the moon had, at least, stayed loyal.  
Pitch knew by this point that Tsar really didn't want to hurt him centuries ago; it was just a tragic side effect of a situation that was only partly in his control, and Pitch himself became a sacrifice for the greater good of the world he had once loved.  
But, slowly, he was growing to love it again.  
He loved the mortals, truth be told.  
Their music, their art, their imagination had always astounded him, and it was them that caused him to take their form.  
Of course, there was a stinging pain that came with being cast out by the beings who had, 2,000 years ago, brought him into existence in the first place.  
Had they not been so paranoid and conjured up a man in their own imagination, Pitch would not exist.  
They didn't know they had made him, of course, and Pitch knew that.  
He didn't hold them to that too heavily, just as he didn't hate them for mistreatment and physical assault on him hundreds of years ago.  
Even though he was secretly too nervous to be around pitch forks without squirming still, he didn't hate them or even blame them.  
He couldn't pit their own nature against them; when there was a problem, people got rid of it.  
It was sensible.  
As for Tsar, he forgave him.  
It had been a recent forgiveness, and Tsar was so patient.  
Not long after Pitch came to that conclusion, they shared their first kiss.  
It was the first kiss either of them had had in their entire existence, and it was past the point of explanation for either of them.  
Deep, intimate, fleshy.  
Basically it was what Pitch always expected a kiss to feel like, only without being gross or overly full of spit.  
After all, Tsar had great control over most things, so he was glad he could also control his saliva.  
Leading up to and ever since, the way the men touched each other was considerably more passionate.  
But ever since the kiss, Pitch had been feeling a little different, so to speak.  
Whenever he saw Tsar, he would note to himself that his face or body would sometimes feel hot, or his heart would race.  
Tingles ran down his spine, he would get weird, painless knots in his stomach, his mouth would become dry and he would start to think most...inappropriate things about his partner.  
He wondered what he looked like under all that clothing.  
Wondered even, what his anatomy was like.  
Of course, Pitch felt sickened by himself for these feelings, but those weren't even the worst of it.  
It was how his lower half responded to his curious mental wanderings that disturbed him the most.  
The arousal was almost painful sometimes, but Pitch knew no better.  
His entire life he had seen sex, mortal behavior and knew just about everything there was to know about the human body, physiology and so on and so forth, thus it never surprised him when he saw it.  
But he himself, before Tsar, had always been an asexual being.  
He was reserved, and had virtually nothing to do with his "manhood."  
For God's sake, the man never took his clothes off -- he barely knew what his own feet looked like!  
His mind was just always occupied, and he saw no reason to try and find something to arouse him (if something could have even existed).  
But ever since that kiss it was like it had sent a shock wave through him, opening up a portion of his mind and physical sensory he had never felt before.  
And it was frustrating, because he was too shy to "relieve the tension."  
Eventually Tsar found out about Pitch's little situation, and as amusing and adorable as he thought it was he stayed composed and mature so as not to piss Pitch off or hurt him...  
...  
Aw, but he had to mess with him and chuckle a couple sometimes at least; it was sweet, and he was flattered to know that those feelings were so serious.  
Tsar felt the same way for Pitch, though he admitted he felt that way much sooner because, unlike Pitch, Tsar was sexually familiar with himself, and had been that way since just shortly after his conception.  
And, being self aware of his mind and body, he had found himself wondering about Pitch's body and when no one was looking, would sometimes stare at his "pants" area.  
It was just nature, he couldn't deny he was curious.

"Ohhh, you filthy, diluted, secret closet pervert," Pitch had said once he found that out.

His eyes were squinted in a most venomous manner, but he knew Tsar was better than being a total pervert, and was also flattered.  
More or less, he was messing with him, too.  
A little more cautious and reserved out of shyness, true, but flattered in a weird, surprising way.  
It had been about a month since Pitch nervously confessed his feelings, but neither of them were ready to explore the relationship more intimately.  
But knowing the day would eventually come, Tsar took measures to ensure they would have a warm, comfortable place to lay in when the moment was right~.

 

\---End


End file.
